


Twice Known

by NexusPhenomena



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Businessman Thorin, College kids Kili and Fili, Explicit Language, Glacier slow, M/M, Middle-Earth is real, Mild Language, Modern AU, Multi, Old Souls, Slow Build, Twice born, Writer Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NexusPhenomena/pseuds/NexusPhenomena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inhabitants of Tolkien’s Middle-Earth have been reborn into the modern era. As they live through their new lives, they catch glimpses of themselves through dreams. The only two who have full memories of their pasts are Gandalf and Legolas, who try to help push the other reborn to remember who they once were.<br/>Bilbo harmlessly sits at home, writing his stories and lives his life completely oblivious of his past and what Gandalf has in store for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rude Awakenings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twice Known](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/40525) by Pandamani. 



> T: So this is my first fanfic that I have ever typed and posted anywhere, so excuse the poorness of it. I hope to continue to get better at this, after all I can only get better and hopefully not worse.
> 
> Anyways, I found my inspiration from the amazing Pandamani's art of Twice Known. Go check Pandamani out on tumblr!! So be prepared for some stranger turns and some interesting filler!

Bilbo was never one to hold parties or to always have guests over. He was a solitary man. He lived in the house his father built for his mother. He spent most of his time in his kitchen, his garden, or his office. He woke up at 10 every morning and fell asleep to the radio at 10 every night. Bilbo was a creature of habit and he felt enjoyment from the mundane tasks of the day. He was not a big fan of surprises or things that would ruffle his feathers. Now if this was a perfect world, Bilbo would go about his days with little to no interruptions and could be perfectly content with sipping tea in his garden. This was not a perfect world and Bilbo knew this all too well.  
  
The knock on the door was every indication that Bilbo’s routine was going to be thrown out the window. ‘Maybe. Maybe if I stay quiet and pretend I didn’t hear it, they’ll go away.’ He clenched his eyes tighter, hoping that his uninvited guest would lose interest and leave.  
  
For a moment, there was silence and no knocks came. He enjoyed the moment of peace by having a smile grow across his face. In relief, he burrowed his head into his arms as if they were a pair of pillows, but that was quickly dampened by a forceful knock that rattled his door. A grumble started in the back of his throat and made itself known by slipping through his lips before he began to push himself away from his desk. His neck and head immediately protested this sudden movement. Bilbo groaned in response to the movement. He brought his hand up to his neck to try and soothe the pain. He glanced around and saw his desk in complete clutter to match the rest of his study. Around the room there were several open books and pieces of paper scattered about; some were even taped to the walls. His laptop and typewriter were pushed to the edge of his desk in order to make space for where he was sleeping. He let out a pained sigh as he reached up to stretch. “Fell asleep at your desk again, old boy.” He shook his head. He pushed himself out of his chair and took careful strides to leave his office without disturbing his mess.  
  
The moment that he closed his office door, another knock rattled on his door causing the door to bend under the knocker’s fist.  
  
“I’m coming!” Bilbo shouted out to the impatient guest. “Lobelia! I swear if you came here today to try and get me to--.” His rant ended quickly when he opened his door and saw a tall man. “Oh uh! Good morning?” He began to nervously fiddle with his clothes.  
  
“What do you mean?” A deeply melodic voice responded, “Do you wish me a good morning or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not?” He paused for only a second before a sly smile grew across his face. ”Or that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?”  
  
There was an awkward pause before Bilbo dared answer, “I uh… just meant it as a greeting, but I suppose it would be all?” He looked questionably up at the man. “Can I help you?” He still fidgeted with his clothes, but a particular wrinkle on his sleeve was keeping his fingers very preoccupied.  
  
The tall man stared down at Bilbo for a second, taking in the sight of the shorter man lose an unwinnable war with his clothes. He was an elderly gentleman, wearing a grey suit and a bright yellow tie with obnoxiously fat pink birds all over it. His long, silver hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and his matching beard was neatly trimmed. He gripped a wooden cane that he grinded into the porch to emphasize his throat clearing.  
  
Bilbo let out a squeak. “Oh dear! I’m sorry. I was staring, wasn’t I?”  
  
The man’s blue eyes danced in laughter as he nodded. “Indeed you were, my boy.” Bilbo blushed as he mumbled a barely audible ‘sorry’.  
  
“Can I help you with something, Mr… uh, I’m sorry, I never caught your name.” Bilbo brought his attention back to the man.  
  
“Are you telling me that Belladonna Took’s son has no memory of me?” The man put a hand on his chest in an overly dramatic hurt fashion. “And after all the fireworks I put off for your many birthdays! To think I could so easily be forgotten!” The man scoffed a little as his grip on his cane tightened, shifting his weight more onto it.  
  
Bilbo’s face lit up at the word ‘fireworks,’ and a bright smile became plastered on his face. “Gandalf! Please, please come in!” He moved to the side of the door, saying, “I’m so sorry for keeping you out on the porch.” Bilbo’s bright smile lifted the ancient man’s mood as his own smile widened; he moved into the entrance hall and took a look around the cluttered rooms.  
  
“It would seem you have not been expecting company for quite some time, hm?” The halls were covered in mountains of books and scraps of paper were strewn about the room. Even with all the clutter that filled Bag End, there was a warmth that poured from its halls. “Bag End still feels the exact same as it once did…” Gandalf muttered to himself.  
  
Bilbo looked around him and let out a nervous laugh as he rubbed his hands over his disheveled clothes. “Well, I don’t entertain often. Too busy with writing and ignoring relatives to do much cleaning.” He looked around his disorganized mess of a home as images of Lobelia shouting at him over the phone popped into his head. “But I’m quite sure you’re not here to talk to me about my living arrangements are you, Gandalf? What would bring you all the way out here?”  
  
“To see if you would like to go on an adventure, my dear boy!” Gandalf gave him a wide smile. Bilbo stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. A type of laughter that caused his body to shake. “An adventure, Gandalf? You’ve definitely come to ask the wrong man. I write adventures; I don’t go on them! Plus…” His laughter had started to die down until he stood with a serious look on his face. “I have too much to do here. I can’t just go running off from my responsibilities. I have a job and a home to take care of. Perhaps if I was younger and had more time on my hands I might go running off on whatever it might be you’re asking me to do. Come now, Gandalf, do you honestly want a 40 year old man going off on an adventure?” He puffs his chest out in defense for any attack that would come. “I think not! This isn’t some fairy tale, Gandalf; this is real life!”  
  
While Bilbo continued to rant and rave about his responsibilities, Gandalf’s grip on his cane grew tighter and his head hung with every word until his face was darkened and out of view. As Bilbo finished, he noticed Gandalf’s body shaking, whether with rage or sorrow, he wasn’t quite sure yet. “Gandalf?” Bilbo raised a hand to reach out and comfort Gandalf, or to at the very least grab his attention.  
  
“My dear Bilbo!” Gandalf exclaimed, causing Bilbo’s outreaching hand to jump back to match the rest of his body. Gandalf lifted his head up and let out a loud bout of laughter. “I’m not asking you to go slay a dragon or save a man from madness!” His body shook more as he laughed louder. “I’m just asking you to deliver something important for me! A quick, simple adventure.”  
  
Bilbo listened to Gandalf’s laughter and started to grow red in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stared up at Gandalf and chose to add a dark glare to complete his mixed feelings of embarrassment and anger towards the elderly man. “We do have a perfectly fine mail service in town. It’s an amazing thing truly. You bring your package, address it, and leave it in their hands! Why do you come to me and bother me with such a silly request?”  
  
“This package cannot be entrusted to the Post, Bilbo. This is far too important to be shuffled around with the rest of the packages. I need this to be in the hands of someone with whom I hold the utmost trust, not a mere stranger’s hands.”  
  
“Gandalf, I’m a stranger. The only thing I know about you is your fireworks and the relationship with my mother. You know nothing about me.” Bilbo shifted on his feet, uncomfortable about the turn of this conversation. He wasn’t quite sure what Gandalf found so important about a package. He rationalized by saying it was Gandalf’s age that was getting to him.  
  
“My dear Master Baggins, I know more about you than I even think you know about yourself.” Gandalf gave him a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming. “And I promise this won’t take too much from your busy life, I assure you. In fact, it’s just going into town and dropping it off. Simple as that.”  
  
“But I’m not going into town today.”  
  
“Well, whenever you can manage it.” Gandalf reached inside his suit jacket into a hidden pocket and pulled out the package. It was bound with twine and wrapped in a dulling brown envelope. The envelope looked as though it had been through hell and back. He held the package out for Bilbo and asked, “Would you do this for me?”  
  
Bilbo stared at the package for a while before briskly taking it into his hands; it was heavier than he had first thought. He took a moment to look over the entirety of the package. He turned it over and noticed a stark white piece of paper with a single name on the front. Bilbo could barely make out the handwriting. “Thorin? Who is this Thorin?” Bilbo turned his attention up to Gandalf.  
  
“Someone. The individual of whom will be receiving this package, no doubt.” He chuckled and tapped his cane on the wooden floor. “Now, I believe I have outstayed my welcoming for today.” He tapped his cane once more before turning back towards the door. Bilbo, who was staring back at the package, quickly snapped out of his thoughts. “But, you just got here! I haven’t even gotten the chance to offer you tea or biscuits. I’ve been a horrible host! My father must be rolling in his grave right now.” Bilbo brought the package to his heart and squeezed. He felt the contents from within shifting and giving off a faint groan from the pressure.  
  
“Oh no, don’t you worry yourself about that. I’m sure there will be plenty of other times for tea and biscuits. But for now, I have other engagements that do need my attention today. I trust that you will remember to deliver that package when you find the time?” Gandalf paused and looked down at Bilbo. His grip on his cane grew tighter as a serious look fell over his face. “You must make sure that that package only meets Thorin’s hands, Bilbo. No other can get this, do you understand?” When Bilbo nodded, his serious face melted away, giving off a bright smile. “Good! Now then, off to greet the rest of the day.” He walked over to the door and opened it.  
  
Bilbo followed after Gandalf. “I do understand, Gandalf. Next time you are by though, I will have biscuits and tea ready. There will be no backing out of that, do you hear me?” Bilbo freed one of his hands from the package and pointed at him, which caused Gandalf to let out a chuckle.  
  
Gandalf nodded. “Of course, my dear boy! Now, go take care of yourself. You shouldn’t be working yourself so hard, especially if it means falling asleep in yesterday’s clothes. You need to get out and enjoy life, my boy.” He took a step out into the mid-morning sun and took in a deep breath. “Mmm… Feel that sun and that wonderful summer air. You’ll want to be enjoying it now. Fall is on its way and I feel that we might get an early winter.” Gandalf glanced back at Bilbo, who was looking at him suspiciously. “Can feel it in my bones. Special magic we elderly men get.” He chuckled, “You have yourself a good day, Bilbo.” He walked down the porch and turned around to give him a quick wave.  
  
Bilbo flushed at the mention of his clothes but walked onto the porch to watch Gandalf walk down the lane. “Be safe!” Bilbo called out after Gandalf. If Gandalf knew one thing, it was definitely the weather. The warmth beaming off of the sun brought a smile to Bilbo’s face and filled his body with energy. The light breeze briskly kissed at the exposed skin, causing him to let out a happy sigh. _‘I should open the windows today; no need to waste this beautiful weather,’_ Bilbo thought to himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. He smelt the smells of the bakeries from town starting up for the day and the trees, grass, and flowers that surrounded him. He stood on his porch, barefoot and eyes closed for a while before he turned around and walked back inside. He closed his door and dropped the package on the entrance table. The package let out a surprisingly loud clunk as it greeted the wood. Bilbo glanced over at it before casting it out of his mind. ‘It’s none of my business.’ Bilbo shook his head, _‘If I open that package, what would it accomplish? Nothing, Bilbo Baggins. You leave it alone. Nope, my parents raised me better than that.’_ Bilbo would be lying if his Tookish side wasn’t crying at him to rip open the package and find out what this adventure was about. His Baggins side hrumphed loudly at that thought and urged Bilbo to ignore it. “What could be so important that I have to deliver this to some Thorin person?” He grumbled a little as he closed his door, promptly locking it. “Disturbing my peace for a little adventure. Ridiculous!” Bilbo threw up his hands as if he was attempting to quiet the thoughts in his own mind as well as filling the emptiness around him. As the silence set in around him, he let out a loud sigh to try and fill it again, but failed. He let his hands sway at his side before starting to move around his home, opening up windows to let in the summer air and the sounds of nature.  
  
Bilbo walked toward his room and threw on his ragged, red bathrobe. As he tied the sash around his waist, he walked out of his room and towards the bathroom. He casually walked in and turned on the hot water. He moved over to the sink and went through brushing his teeth and brushing his hair or else it would become too unmanageable after the shower. After a few minutes, Bilbo put his hand in to test the water. Once he had judged the water to be warm enough, he disrobed and took off his old clothes before hopping into the downpour of water. He fixed the curtain behind him before standing beneath the warm water. He closed his eyes as he let the water hit his face and finally his golden curls. He moved from under the water and grabbed his soap to begin scrubbing himself clean. He let the suds fall off his body as he began to zone out, his mind wandering off into his imaginary worlds. Bilbo had been working on a fantasy novel upon request of his agent which was out of Bilbo’s comfort zone. He was no Tolkien or J.K. Rowling after all. He couldn’t think up a world to save his life, especially if there had to be some action. Bilbo led a boring life, filled with evening television and novel writing.  
  
The water was starting to turn cold by the time Bilbo convinced himself to leave. He had thought up a few ideas that quickly became plot bunnies that would eventually go nowhere but back in their tunneling holes. He turned off the water and stepped out, rubbing himself down with one of his fluffiest towels. He threw the towel onto his head to vigorously rub out the water in his hair and left the bathroom in a minor state of disarray. He walked into his bedroom and threw on some fresh clothes. A pair of fresh boxers, blue jeans that were a slight size too big, and one of his favorite sweaters, a mustard yellow color. Then he went about his daily routine. He promptly made himself a large breakfast with eggs done over easy, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast. He also made himself a nice cup of tea to fully round out the meal. He sat at his table in peace, enjoying the breeze that was coming from outside and the music of the birds. After finishing his breakfast, he got up and cleaned up his mess. He cleaned all his dishes from breakfast and the dinner the night before. He walked into the bathroom and gave that a proper cleaning before throwing his dirty laundry into the hamper. After that, he moved on to fixing up his messy piles of books and papers.  
  
Bilbo paused when he walked into the living room. He looked over at two chairs that were left completely bare. Bilbo quickly turned his head and walked away from the chairs. Bag End, as it was lovingly called, was a wedding gift from his father to his mother many years ago. His father, Bungo, had spent years finalizing every little detail down to every single nail. The home was filled to the brim with love for his precious bride-to-be Belladonna. He made sure to pull nature into the home. Belladonna had been known to escape into the wilderness, bound to any adventure that came her way and Bungo needed a way to ground her. He made use of the tree and nature garden that had been growing around the home by creating an indoor garden. That quickly became Belladonna’s favorite place in the whole house. Bilbo remembered the home being filled with the smell of flowers freshly picked from their garden, until the day Bungo fell ill. After that day, there were no more loving smells of flowers or the sound of laughter echoing the halls. By the time winter had set in, Bungo was fading quickly and he did not last much longer. Bilbo and his mother were not the only ones to suffer that winter, many others had been lost due to the unusual chill and the snowfall that had devastated the land.  
  
Bilbo ran his fingers through his tangled curls. “I don’t want to think about that…” He muttered to himself as he twirled a finger around one of the locks of hair. He cleared his throat loudly and shook his head once more. “No. I will not let myself think of that.” He walked back into the entrance hall where his eyes were drawn to the aged package. “An adventure, hm?” He walked over to the table and picked up the package. “Thorin…” He mumbled the name as he let his thumb rub over the paper. “What harm could delivering a letter cause?”  
  
“Thorin…”


	2. A Fresh Start?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Thorin has had a better start to his day over Bilbo's. Life always has a strange way of turning things around.

_“Thorin!” Frantic hands fell onto his body._  
  
_“He’s going to bleed out. Aule! Someone get Oin!” The owner of the gentle, frantic hands sounded worried about something, but he wasn’t quite sure about what. “The boys, what of Fili and Kili?” The hands applied upon his chest, where he felt a great deal of pain and a sense of his blood pouring out of his body. The voice that had once sounded worried, now sounded as if they were about to break into hysteria at any moment. Silence followed as the sound of footsteps came closer. “Oin! The boys?”_  
  
_“I don’t know, Bilbo, but it doesn’t look good for the lads_  
  
_The hands began to tremble as the pressure began to weaken. The last sound he heard before darkness took him was that of a sob and a bitter battle cry. Once the silence came, he was comforted; for the first moment he heard nothing and saw nothing. All worry and pressure left him as the darkness greeted him. He stood in the silence for what felt like an eternity before a voice rang rich amongst the silence._  
  
_“Don’t know, laddie. He lost a lotta blood. We’ll all be lucky if he even wakes again.”_  
  
_“He has to! What other gold –blinded idiot will brood over nothing?”_  
  
_There was a disheartened laugh. “Aye, there won’t be any of that. Though, he won’t be all that cheery about the boys. Too much loss, too much.” The talking faded from his ears as he heard the news. His nephews, his boys, were gone. They were dead. Mahal, save him. As he turned to get lost in his thoughts, he felt something warm push against his face. There was a comfortable pressure placed on his forehead as he heard a hushed voice, “They were brave, Thorin. They used themselves as shields. I wasn’t fast enough. I... I could have saved them. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” There was a sound of sobbing and a wetness hitting his face. “I failed you and them...our nephews.”_  
  
  


~*~

 

“--our nephews. Thorin? Ey! Are you even listenin’ to me?”

“Wha-?” Thorin shook his head to see a disgruntled looking Dwalin, who shook his head and grumbled under his breath, bringing his fingers up to rub his temples. “You’ve been spacey lately. Did ya hear anything I just said? Or were ya too concerned about your meetin’ with the bosses?”

Thorin snorted, “As if I can be rattled so easily.” He fixed his dark blue suit jacket and adjusted his dark red tie. He cleared his throat and stood up. “Though delaying this will only upset them.” He ran his fingers through his short, graying black hair, which matched his neatly trimmed beard. “I might as well go see what they are being so pushy about, hm?”

“Good luck!” Dwalin laughed as he slapped a large hand onto Thorin’s shoulders. “I’m sure ya’ll need it. Better get back to my patrol. Ya know how they are keepin’ eyes on everything round here.”

“Good luck indeed,” Thorin muttered after Dwalin as he began to gather up his paperwork. It was rare that the bosses talked with any of the employees. They would always send little messengers to speak in their stead. So the fact that Thorin, of all people, was called to come to their office made him suspicious about if this was a prank from his peers in the office. He gathered up the papers on his desk and straightened them up before laying them down. He adjusted his jacket as he got up and walked towards the elevator. He pushed the button and almost immediately started to tap his foot impatiently on the ground. His gaze was set on the dial, watching the numbers ever so slowly count down to his floor.

A loud ding sounded abruptly stopped Thorin’s foot from tapping. Thorin looked at the doors as they slid open and walked in, pushing the button up to the penthouse. He watched his office space slide away as the doors closed, leaving Thorin alone with nothing but the horrible elevator music. As Thorin stood in the middle of the elevator, he noticed that the elevator was moving at a glacier’s pace. He looked up at the dial once more and watched it slowly climb to his destination. As he watched the dial, his mind began to wander to his earlier daydream. He had never been known to zone out like that before, but his dreams were becoming more and more erratic. He could still feel the soft and warm touch of the fingers from his daydream. Unconsciously, he moved his own hand to rest on his stomach where the fingers put pressure; only to be greeted with his own fingers digging into his stomach. He grunted in annoyance as he heard the ding of the elevator alerting him that he had reached his floor.

He stepped out of the elevator and the only noise that greeted him was his own shoes hitting the polished, gray granite flooring. The clicking of the sole of his shoe caused him to wince slightly from the echoing. He glanced around at the uncomfortably spacious room that laid before him. The room would have been pitch black if not for the left side being nothing but glass. However, even with all the light that flooded into the room, it still felt dark and almost claustrophobic. The walls were painted what appeared to be a dark gray, though it was hard to tell with the light dulling out the true color. Thorin glanced around the room for any furniture but saw nothing that would add any warmth or comfort to the room. There was only a large desk that took up the right side of the room. The desk was made out of a faded oak that was as polished as the floor. Behind the desk sat a woman who paid no mind to Thorin and only continued to file her black fingernails.

Thorin glanced back at the elevator before stepping over to the desk; he felt as though he was about to be thrown to the lions for supper. He stood near the desk, but not close enough to lean against it, hoping to catch the woman’s attention. His attempt was in vain as she continued to ignore his existence. He cleared his throat at first softly to see if she would take notice, but nothing happened. He cleared his throat once more, only louder.

“Can I help you, sir?” A gruff, but feminine voice snapped at him. She peered up at him from her chair. She held a file tightly in her boney fingers. She was a woman of middle-age with blinding white hair that was cut harshly to make her cheekbones pop further than natural. She was a slender woman with a short black cocktail dress to emphasize her shape. Her legs were crossed tightly with her stiletto heels tapping, irritably against the flooring. Her harsh ice blue eyes flashed harshly at Thorin’s silence. “If you keep standing there, I will call security to take you away.”

Thorin walked closer to the desk. “I was told that the bosses wanted to see me… ma’am?” Thorin found it hard to believe that this creature sitting in front of him was a woman. Other than the dress and the slight curve to her body, he could have mistaken her as a man.

“Name?” she asked shortly.

“Thorin Oakenshield, manager of--”

“I don’t need your title nor your life story, sir. They have been waiting for you.” She looked Thorin dead in his eyes, causing Thorin to feel as though he was being stared down by a wolf.

“Uh... Thank you, Ms. --?”

“Daisy.”

“Ms. Daisy.” Thorin nodded his head, not wanting to hand over one of his hands to shake her claws. He moved away from her desk and walked to the opposite side where an overly sized door stood. He stopped in front of it and debated with himself on whether he should knock or just walk in.

“Just go in.” Ms. Daisy’s snide voice barked at him from behind her desk.

Thorin glanced back at Daisy, who continued to peer at him like a hungry animal. He took a deep breath before reaching out and turning the doorknob. He pushed open the door only to be greeted with another overly spacious room. This room was darker with only a single sunroof window lighting up the room. Unlike the waiting room, the walls were clearly painted a dark gray with a texturing that looked similar to stone. The atmosphere was not as chilled as the waiting room. In fact, it was the exact opposite of the waiting room; it was uncomfortably warm and stuffy. With such little light, only a little of the room was enlightened, which realized two desks on opposite sides of the room. There was a long conference table that sat in the center of the room with a line of chairs that looked as though there was a layer of dust on them. Thorin squinted his eyes to try and make out more of the room, but he had not adjusted to the darkness yet.

“You’ve kept us waiting, Mr. Oakenshield. Please.” A voice called out from the shadows. “Come have a seat and we can start our meeting.”

Thorin moved over to the closest chair, at the head of the conference table. He sat down and looked at the other end of the table. Two figures loomed at the end, both in a similar pose. They stood with their hands behind their backs as Thorin shifted stiffly in his chair. For the first time since he was a child, he saw the bosses of the company.

The men varied vastly from each other. The taller gentleman stood with a menacing posture. He stood stoically as the stouter and smaller man moved forward. The sunlight splashed a level of detail to the man. The sunlight shone off of the man’s skin. It showed him to be far paler than a normal person with a few visible scars on his face. His shocking blue eyes bore into Thorin as though he was ripping him to shreds.

The shorter of the two men spoke first. “We almost marked you as a loss, Mr. Oakenshield.” His voice was harsh and when he pronounced his consonants, they were as though they were roughly thrown out.

“But I am sure you are quite curious as to why we have called you up here.” The taller man interjected as the shorter man had finished, leaving no time for Thorin to react. The taller man’s voice was deep, but not as harsh as his companion’s. There was a throaty rumble that echoed off the walls as he spoke.

“I am.” Thorin shortly replied. The shorter man offered a sneer to Thorin’s response.

“How long have you worked for us, Mr. Oakenshield?” The taller man took a step into the and reached out his long, bony fingers to rest near the end of the table. His fiery red hair was slicked back into a ponytail that swayed side to side as he moved his head.

“Roughly 25 years, sir.”

“Since your grandfather gave us the company, is that correct?” The taller man continued to talk, while his shorter compatriot remained silent, observing Thorin as if trying to find the right moment to attack.

_‘You ripped it from his dying hands, you worm.’_ Thorin growled under his breath, “Yes, sir.”

“I thought so. Then you know what our company stands for, one being loyalty above all other traits.” The taller man’s eyes stayed on Thorin.

_‘Not to mention the money that you’ve lined your pockets with,'_ Thorin continued to think to himself.

“Erebor is a company that does not judge based on… _past experience_. We look to the future to bring hope and prosperity to all of our employees.” The taller man straightened his posture and swung his arms about in a grand fashion.

Thorin had long stopped caring for what this man was talking about. Every so often he would hear him monologue about the good of the company or its bright future that he has planned. The more the man dragged on, the fuzzier Thorin’s focus became. His mind started to drift away from the increasingly warm room. The world around him blurred out and only darkness greeted him. He sat there, surrounded by darkness, unable to move for only a moment before he felt the same soft fingers envelope his own hands. The fingers were gripping his fingers tightly. He then started to feel warm, wet spots hit his chest and darken his clothes. The drops of water from Thorin’s guest happened silently until sound slowly started to bleed into his ears. It was the sound of silent sobs. He grunted a little as he felt his hand involuntarily twitch around the smaller fingers. The world around him started to gain colors and shapes, but kept their fuzziness. In the darkness of gray stone and a faded glow of a fire, Thorin found himself reclined back in a bed. He glanced down to see himself wrapped in bandages where blood was bleeding through and furs along his sides to keep him warm. He squinted his eyes to try and clear his vision but made no progress. He looked to see the source of the crying, only to see someone who was fuzzy beyond recognition. He twitched his hand again to see the figure jolt up from where he was laying. The figure turned, what Thorin could only assume to be, it’s face to look at him.

Thorin was taken back as he looked at the face. Unlike the other features being fuzzed out, the eyes were as clear as Thorin’s own body. They were red and puffy from crying, but a warm brown that brought a shiver to run along Thorin’s spine. He watched the eyes of the figure widen as if from shock of seeing him. Thorin stared back into those welcoming and gentle eyes for what felt like an eternity, until his own gruff voice spoke without him telling it to: “Burglar.” The figure’s eyes quickly turned from the warm brown that they were into gold. His pupils contracted into slits and the small, fuzzy figure grew in size and morphed into a vast, crimson shape that towered over him. The shape opened what appeared to be its mouth and thunderous laughter rumbled around the now cavernous room.

“Thorin Oakenshield.” The shape rumbled out. Thorin stared up at the shape as it repeated his name once more with more force.

“And with that Mr. Oakenshield… Mr. Oakenshield?”

The shape and room quickly faded and disappeared until Thorin was once more in his bosses’ office. He looked up from the table, and guessed by the stares that he had been entranced for an unknown amount of time. “I apologize. I had gotten lost in thought from your talk, Mr. Trâgu.”

“Well, I do have a way with speeches.” The taller man, Mr, Trâgu, gave himself a self-satisfying grin and adjusted his charcoal suit. “But as I was saying, Mr. Oakenshield. We are sad to say that we will no longer need your services. The company will be heading in a different direction.”

“What?” Thorin had given himself another chance to think back to the brown eyes that bore into his head. He took a moment to stare at the two men on the other side of the table before standing up and slamming his hands into the table. “You’re firing me?!” He shouted at them, “After all the crap you put my family through, and now you’re saying that you’re moving in a different direction!”

“We understand that you are upset, Mr. Oakenshield, but our decision is final. You may have the rest of the day to pack up your desk. Do have a nice day. Please see yourself out.” Mr. Trâgu remained stoic compared to Thorin’s outburst. He calmly gestured to the door.

“We do wish you all the luck with your future employments.” The shorter man said while trying his best to hide a happy grin.

Thorin stared at them, his stormy blue eyes growing dark from anger. He felt his body tense as he mechanically replied, “Thank you for this opportunity. I hope Erebor continues to thrive for you.” Before he could say anything more, he turned his back to them and left. He walked straight to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for it to come up silently. Occasionally, he gripped his hands into fists that were so tight that his knuckles started to turn white. When the elevator dinged and slid its doors open, Thorin walked in and pushed the button to go back down to his floor. He stood in the elevator silently enraged, giving the door a death glare as though it would bend to his whim. When the elevator hit his floor, he stalked back to his desk, glowering at anyone who made the mistake of trying to stop him on his way to his desk.

Back at his desk, he sat in his chair and stared at all the paperwork that had been thrown on his desk. His eyes moved over each piece of paper before landing on a framed photograph. Gingerly, he reached out and took it into his hand. He found his thumb lovingly rubbing the wood that framed the picture. Behind the glass, two bright smiling faces greeted him: the faces of his beloved nephews. As he stroked the frame, a sad smile found its way onto his face. His thumb moved to smudge the glass with a sweaty thumbprint. “What am I going to tell the boys?” He brought his free hand to rest on his forehead, letting it slowly slide to cover his eyes.

“Got your ass chewed?” Dwalin’s voice was both welcomed and unwanted. Thorin kept his hand where it was before pulling it off his eyes, only to be greeted with Dwalin’s confident grin. “Told ya that ya would need luck, didn’t I?” He put his hands on Thorin’s desk and leaned towards him.

“Yeah... If only luck would have saved me.” Thorin scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

“What? Ya sounds like ya lost your job, but come on now.” Dwalin let out a forced laugh, “Right?”

“For being as thick-headed as you are, you tend to guess right a lot of the time,” Thorin replied sourly.

“They can’t just fire ya like that!” Dwalin’s hands gripped tightly at the desk. “We need ya here at the office! No one can take your job.” Dwalin stared down at Thorin wildly, which only brought about a sigh from Thorin. Thorin stood up and started to gather up his personal items, which only included a few pictures, a coffee mug, and some pens. “They were talking about the future of Erebor if that means anything. Who knows what those assholes are planning on doing with my company.”

“So you’re going to just give up like that? No challenge?! Nothing?” Dwalin snarled over to Thorin. “Well! If you’re going to go, then so am I!”

“You can’t just quit your job because I lost mine, Dwalin. That’s childish.” Thorin put his pens in the inner pocket.

“Nope. Not childish at all.”

“Yes it is.”

“Nope! Decision already made; ya can’t change my mind now!” Dwalin gave him a half smile before taking off his security badge and putting it on Thorin’s desk. “Shall we get out of this hellhole?”

“You’re beyond impulsive, Dwalin.” He let out a light laugh for the first time all day. He started to walk over to the elevator. “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Balin?”

“….” Dwalin remained silent as he walked next to Thorin.

“You have no idea, do you?” Thorin pushed the button, turning his head to look at him.

“Nope.”

“Will you have Bombur’s café cater your funeral?” A ding sounded off and Thorin walked in, quickly followed by Dwalin.

“Sure, why not? I don’t have to pay for it.” Dwalin crossed his arms, huffing in reply.

“Can I get that axe you have hanging in your office?” Thorin pushed for the ground floor, glancing over at him.

“I would rather die a thousand times over before letting ya get your hands on that axe. That’s a family heirloom!” Dwalin snarled at him.

“You’re right.” Thorin nodded in agreement, falling silent during the ride down. Once they had reached the ground floor, Thorin dropped off his badge and moved to the glass door. As he pushed it open, he glanced back at Dwalin, who was following obediently behind him. “It’ll be embedded in your thick skull anyways. Can’t very well get blood on my new axe.”

“Ya cheeky bastard.” Dwalin spat at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two is done! Oh my goodness, this one took forever to write, it was rewritten quite a few times. Hopefully you guys enjoy this. If you notice anything let me know!


	3. Brotherly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin wasn't going to get away with quitting his job so easily. But he has more of a happy ending than poor Thorin

“Do you have anything between those ears?”  
  
Dwalin slunk lower into the armchair, wanting nothing more than to merge with it. ‘ _This is a comfortable chair_ ,’ Dwalin thought to himself. ‘ _Warm, nice, and no one would yell at me here._ ’  
  
“How do you just quit on a whim, Dwalin?” The voice shouted at him, pulling him away from his thoughts. “How are you going to make a living?” The sharp tone is what cut the deepest. The voice’s volume wasn’t too loud, but loud enough to not be ignored.  
  
Dwalin opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, but was only silenced with a barrage of rhetorical questions. He looked up at the man that had now begun pacing in front of him. He was on the shorter side, but seemed to cast a shade as tall as a mountain. His usual bright and kind face, now spelt only doom for Dwalin’s future. As Dwalin stared openly at him, the man’s eyes quickly made connection. “Brother, why? Did you think about what this will do to you? Do you not realize how long it took me to get all of this settled for you?”  
  
“Are ya going to let me talk or are ya going to rip my mouth off my face?” Dwalin couldn’t help but mumble the second half of his question.  
  
“I outta box your ears for your stupidity.” Balin shook his fist towards him. “But yes, you may talk now.”  
  
“They fired Thorin.” Dwalin pushed himself out of the back of the chair, only to position himself more comfortably.  
  
“What? But that’s his family’s legacy!” Balin sputtered a bit, while his eyes grew wide. “They can’t just take that from him.”  
  
“Yeah, maybe in the past, but it’s Smaug’s and Azog’s company now. Or did ya forget that in your old age?”  
  
“Of course I didn’t. Just with Thorin there, I always forget that they owned the company now. Poor Thror… To see what his company has become.” Balin ran his hand over the white stubble on his chin. “How was Thorin taking the news?” He continued, choosing to ignore Dwalin’s statement on his age.  
  
“Dunno, he’s been strange lately anyways. Zoning out and all, maybe he knew this was comin’, deep down. Though, I’m pretty sure he was ready to punch the nearest thing to him, with all the frightenin’ looks he was givin’.” Dwalin started to laugh. “Boy, ya should have seen some of those faces.” As his sentence continued, the more the laughter came. ”The fury of Thorin Oakenshield! Sounds book worthy, don’t ya think? Maybe ya can get your writer to write about that!”  
  
“I don’t make him do anything. He writes what he wants and I just provide the themes. And some direction.”  
“Yea, right.” Dwalin rolled his eyes.  
  
“But stop changing the subject. You’re finding a new job. Tomorrow. You’ll become fat and lazy if you don’t and I’m not paying your bills.”  
  
Dwalin scoffed, “I take offense to that!”  
  
Balin laughed, “Of course you do, my dear brother.” He leaned over, clapped a hand on the back of his neck, and brought his forehead to touch Dwalin’s. They stayed that way for a while.  
  
“You’re still going to kill me, aren’t ya?” Dwalin asked, breaking the silence.  
  
“In the most painful way possible, Dwalin,” Balin replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T: Hey! Sorry Chapter 3 is late, class has been crazy. Really crazy. But anyways, this is just a quick filler chapter. Enjoy!  
> But Chapter 4 is in the works! We'll be back to Bilbo and be introduced to some more of our beloved dwarves!
> 
> Also, if you notice anything, please tell me. I'll fix it asap


	4. A Trip for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has been falling behind. He should probably learn to get ahead of schedule that way he would have more time to himself. Thorin has a run in with someone he was trying to avoid.

A warm cup of tea solves any problem, no matter how big. Or at least that’s the delusion that Bilbo told himself. He sat in his indoor garden, gingerly sipping his tea. With his eyes closed, he enjoyed the feeling of nature around him and the smells of the flowers in bloom. He felt at peace here. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he sank into his seat. The past few days had been pure chaos, but this simple moment felt as if it justified it all.  
  
Not only did Gandalf’s unexpected visit ruin his Monday writing session, but the rest of the week was overflowing with relations visiting. Just the mere thought of his relatives caused him to shudder and shake. They, of course, had to stop by unannounced and proceed to eat him out of house and home. The past few days were filled with screaming cousins, arguments, and complaints. Bilbo could have handled the arguments and complaints, but the screaming became too much too quickly. He nearly lost all of his composure when they decided to try and get into his office. It was at that moment, the children knew the meaning of true fear. As they ran away from him, he heard a phrase that he hadn’t heard since he was a youngling.  
  
“Mad Baggins.” Just thinking it up made him chuckle, “Mad indeed. Little monsters tracked mud all over my home. I had every thought to…” He paused and let out a laugh, “Maybe I am mad. Who’s the man talking to himself and expecting a reply?”His response to his own madness was a long drink of his tea. He swallowed and let the taste settle in on his tongue. Chamomile, the best tea to relax to when needed. As he held the taste in his mouth, he let his mind drift away. He knew daydreaming wasn’t going to solve anything at the moment, nor was it going to get anything done; however, he savored the moment.  
  
The sound of a clink broke Bilbo’s thoughts. He looked down at his tea cup that had just met the saucer unexpectedly. He let a sigh slip out before pulling his cup away from the saucer. He rested his hands and cup against his chest as he looked to his garden. He stared into the trees that had grown thick over the years of isolation from the elements. The vines and ferns grew monstrously in between the small blooms of flowers. Off the side lived a small patch of vegetables that were always Bilbo’s prize winners.  
  
As Bilbo stared into his garden, a loud buzzing sounded off in his ears. At first, he just ignored it as the sound of a bug but as the buzzing continued, reality came back into his mind as his eyes found his cell phone off on a cabinet across the rounded room. For a moment, he continued to sit in his chair, holding his cup contently as he stared at his phone. But as it buzzed loudly for a third time, Bilbo frantically scrambled out of his chair to get to the phone. A loud shatter echoed in his ears as he paused to silently mourn his saucer, cup, and spilled tea. He looked away and raced to the cabinet in time to answer the phone before it went to voice mail.  
  
“Hello?” he breathlessly said. “Oh hello, Balin! Oh yes, I was actually… Well no, but…” He continued to listen to Balin talking about deadlines and checking up on him like a mother hen. Before long, Bilbo let out a sigh as his eyes wandered to find something to take his mind off of what Balin was saying. His eyes found his tea; before he could stop himself, he sighed.  
  
“Bilbo?” Balin’s voice cut through to him.  
  
“Hm? Oh I’m sorry, Balin, I had spilled some tea is all. Please go on. What were you saying?”  
  
“All I was saying, lad, is your deadline is coming up soon. Have you finished the draft?”  
  
Bilbo was moved from his garden, traveling down the open hallways into the kitchen to get a cloth to mop up the spill. He balanced the phone on his shoulder as he replied, “Well you see, Balin, I--”  
  
“Need more time. Lad, I can’t get you anymore time. How much have you written? You need to deliver something.”  
  
“I think I’m a few pages short,” he mumbled as he looked through cupboards.  
  
“Think? A few? How many is a few?”  
  
“Uh….”  
  
“It’s not a few.”  
  
“Well not really, it’s more like...”  
  
“If you say the number I’m thinking you’re about to say, lad, I can’t promise how I’ll respond.”  
  
“…”  
  
“Just tell me.”  
  
“About 100.”  
  
“Bilbo.”  
  
“Look, I was planning on working on it all day and night. It is going to be done before the deadline, I promise. When have I ever been late?”  
  
“Let’s see, would you like me to go down the list?”  
  
“That’s not necessary. Just give me until the deadline and it will be done.” Bilbo closed a cupboard after he pulled a rag out. He pushed himself off the ground and dusted off his hands as he moved back to the garden.  
“Bilbo, I don’t need you to do another ‘I don’t do anything but write and nearly put myself into a coma afterwards’ mode. When was the last time you left the house?”  
  
“What does that have to do with anything? Of course I left the house.”  
  
“Fill me in: when did you leave?”  
  
“Only this morning!” Bilbo huffed as he replied and moved over to his mess.  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
“I went outside, that’s what I did. Why are you asking me all these questions, Balin?” He carefully picked up all the pieces of porcelain.  
  
“I’m concerned about you, lad. I don’t need to be your agent to be worried.” There was a sigh over the phone. “You went out and got the mail, that’s it, isn’t it?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“Don’t answer that. I know the answer. Bilbo, please, you’ll only torture yourself if you don’t do this. I know that you think sitting in that garden of yours is going outside. It isn’t. I need you do something before you kill yourself over the draft, lad. Can you do me that at the very least?”  
  
“Depends on what it is. Can’t make promises if I don’t know what it is.” He piled up the porcelain before running the rag over the flooring.  
  
“Go outside. I mean really outside. Go for a walk in those woods behind your home. Some fresh air would do you some good, I’m sure of it. Could even give you some ideas.”  
  
“You’re telling me to go outside and ignore the impending deadline even more?”  
  
“I didn’t tell you to go and get lost. Come back after a few hours. Just get some air, Bilbo. That old house is always so stuffy.”  
  
“Alright, alright, if it’ll make you happy, Balin, I’ll take that walk.”  
  
“Good. Give me a call when you’re done, alright? If you don’t, I’ll come for a visit.”  
  
“Don’t make empty threats, Balin.”  
  
“Not a threat, lad, a promise.” There was a click and the phone went silent.  
  
Bilbo couldn’t help but let out a strained laugh as he looked at his phone before he shoved it into his pocket. He pushed the rag around on the floor, sopping up the remaining tea. He gave a quick glance over to the shattered remains of his tea cup. He pushed himself off the ground and moved to the kitchen to rinse out the rag. He put the rag in the sink to dry out and refilled his kettle. He put it on the stove and grabbed another cup. As he waited for the kettle to whistle, he opened up his cabinets in search for his tea bags. After opening the fourth cabinet, Bilbo let out a loud huff, “Where are they?” It became his mission to find his missing tea.  
  
After a few minutes of looking through his kitchen, Bilbo sat in the center of his kitchen, running his fingers through his hair. He let out a groan as he fell backwards only to stare up at the ceiling. “Where in the world did I put my damn tea!? I couldn’t have drunk all of it so soon.” He laid on the floor for a while before he brought his hands onto his face and roughly rubbed at his eyes. A few moments later, he pushed himself up off the ground and into his garden to gather up his broken cup. He pulled his sweater out to make a cup to put the glass shards in.  
  
“Not the smartest idea…” He mumbled to himself as he carefully kept the smaller pieces in his hand as he returned to the kitchen and threw the pieces away. He carefully put the smaller pieces in the trash and went over to the sink to rinse off his hands. He dried off his hands and walked into his entrance hallway. He stood there for a moment before he began to fidget. His hands fussed with his sweater sleeves as he rocked back and forth. As he fidgeted for a while, he looked over at his front door.  
  
“Maybe Balin has a point. I could go get some more tea.” He mumbled to himself as he walked over to the door. He put his hand on the door knob where he paused for a moment.  
  
“What could it hurt?” He took a deep breath as he opened the door. Blinding sunlight greeted him as he stepped outside.  
  
  


~*~

 

His own calloused hand shielded his eyes as he walked outside. He blinked quickly in a vain attempt to adjust to the sunlight. He stood on his stoop for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally his eyes adjusted to the bright sunny day and he looked out onto the busy streets. People bustled down the sidewalks, enjoying the good weather. Smiles on everyone’s faces caused Thorin’s scowl to grow; what right did they have to be happy? They weren’t going through hardships. He turned around, locking up his door as he joined all the joyful people. He walked at a slower pace, with what felt like a cloud of doom following behind him. As he moved along, many of the happy bystanders stepped off to the side to avoid him.

Thorin shoved his hands into his ratty pants as he took a turn onto a busier street. He paused for a moment to look ahead of him. He mumbled a little before starting up his slow pace once more.

‘You just need a few things. You still have mouths to feed. You can do this, Thorin.’ He mentally pepped himself up as he opened the door to his first stop. He pulled open the door and stepped off to the side to let a young woman out. She gave him a sideways glance and handed him a single coin. Thorin couldn’t help but watch the woman walk away in confusion. He walked inside staring at the coin in his hand. As he walked down the aisle, a throat clearing broke Thorin out of his trance. He looked up to see the cashier looking at him suspiciously. Thorin gave the cashier a quick smile before moving out of his line of sight.

He ran his hand over his chin and immediately connected the coin and the odd looks. He made a beeline to the bathroom. He walked in and looked at his reflection. The man looking back at him wasn’t what he had expected. Sure, he hadn’t cleaned up in a while, but he didn’t think it was that bad. His hair was more disheveled than usual as well as longer. His normally trimmed beard was longer and had a few stray hairs. He had bags under his eyes that caused the gray in his hair to look even more defined. His clothes did not help his case either. Between his ratty jeans and his baggy hoodie, he wasn’t sure how he would be able to explain his way out of his appearance if someone he knew saw him. He took a moment to take a deep breath and run his fingers through his hair. When that did not help matters, he turned on the water and used the water to try and smooth over his hair. When he was more satisfied with how he looked, he walked out of the bathroom. He walked around the shop, trying desperately to remember why he had come here in the first place.

As he turned the corner on another aisle, he froze when he saw a familiar face. He attempted to back up and retreat, but that turned out to fail. With the noise of his shoes and the sudden moment, Thorin heard a chuckle, “Trying to avoid me, lad?”

Thorin froze and looked over at the older man. “No, no! Of course not. Why would you think that, Balin?”

“Because I know you, Thorin Oakenshield. You don't do too well with social interactions.”

Thorin opened his mouth only to quickly clench it closed. He couldn't argue with Balin; he was right. “What are you doing out?”

“Oh, just picking up a few things for myself and Dwalin.” His voice dropped as he spoke. He paused for a moment to see if Thorin would respond before he continued, “No one has seen you for a while Thorin. How are you?”

“It's not like I have fallen off the face of the Earth. I've just been busy.” Thorin shrugged and pushed his hands into his pockets.

“How have the job searches been going?”

“Peachy.”

“Thorin.”

“Look, I've been trying, alright? It's not like a job will just appear out of nowhere. Jobs aren't magical.” Thorin gestured while keeping his hands safely in his pockets. ‘If one of those damn dreams came now, maybe my day would get better.’

Balin shook his head, “Lad, I know it is hard, especially after what happened at Ere-”

“If you finish saying that word, it will be your last,” Thorin growled at him.

Balin put his hands up in defense, his basket sliding down into the crook of his elbow. “It's alright to be angry, Thorin.”

“Angry is an understatement.” Thorin turned his head away from Balin as he sniffed.

Balin walked over to Thorin and put his hand on his arm, “It's okay. No one can blame you for being angry. You should have seen me when Dwalin came walking in after he quit.”

Thorin couldn't help but crack a smile, still refusing to look at Balin, “Yeah? I told him it would be his funeral.”  
“Almost was, but I couldn't do that.”

“Yeah, but it's fun to make him squirm.”

“Isn't that the truth. Now, I do believe that you were probably shopping. No need to listen to an old man rambling on.”

“Oh no, it's fine, really.” Thorin pulled his hand out of his pocket and shook his hand. “I just have to pick up a few things, that's all.”

“Well, if you wouldn't mind the company.” Balin laughed.

Thorin nodded. “It's better than two bickering boys.”

“Ah yes! How are the boys doing? I haven't seen them since when...” Balin paused as he ran his fingers over his beard.

“Dis's funeral.”  
  
“Ah yes, that's right. Such a hard thing on the boys, losing their mother.” Balin clicked his tongue as he shook his head.

“It took a while, but they are doing fine now.” Thorin patted Balin's hand that still rested on his arm, which caused Balin to grip him before letting go. They followed side by side through the aisles. Thorin stopped in front of some cooking oils. He looked over the selection before grabbing one of the cheapest ones they offered. They walked a little further and Thorin stopped once again to grab some of the freshly baked bread. Thorin followed Balin as he made his way through the aisles, chattering about this thing and that and before he knew it, they were standing in line at the register. They stood there, waiting to be checked out and Balin continued to talk. Thorin had no clue what he was saying and he knew it was rude to not really care at the same time. He would make an occasional noise to keep Balin talking, but he drifted off into his thoughts before he knew it. As he stood in line, the world faded from around him. It altered from the 1960s styled architecture into open fields of golden grass. He turned his head and saw green forests to his left and further into the distance, bronze rocks nestled on top of each other. Behind him along the horizon line stood a mountain range, standing proudly against the crystal clear skies. Thorin let out a content sigh as he closed his eyes to feel the wind on his face and listen closely to the chirping of birds in his ears. He stood quietly before he felt a shove on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw a blurry shape. It spoke to him, but in a language he had never heard before. The shape pointed into the distance where more shapes came rushing towards him. The blurry shape pushed on him to move but he couldn't move. More shouts in the odd language but they were drowned out by the sound of a roar. Thorin looked back at the shape that now clutched his arm for dear life. As he reached to touch the shape as a sign of comfort, a loud throat clearing stopped him. He blinked as the world rushed away from him. There he stood in the store, his hand partially reaching towards a young woman who stood beside him. She looked up at him nervously. Thorin dropped his hand and looked over at Balin who had his fist resting against his lips.

He cleared his throat again, “My apologies, miss.” He grabbed Thorin by the sleeve and pulled him towards him.  
Thorin muttered a ‘sorry’ before setting his items on the counter. The cashier behind the counter squinted his eyes at him as he rang up his items. Thorin slammed money on the counter, grabbed his items, and quickly moved outside.

Balin chuckled out of nervous habit before putting his items down and following after Thorin. When he ran outside, he found Thorin scuffing up the sidewalk as he walked away. One arm was securely around his items, while the other was stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

“Thorin!”

Thorin tensed up a little, but didn't stop.

“Thorin.” This time Balin was closer and he grabbed Thorin with some hidden strength. “Would you mind explaining what just happened back there?”

“Nothing.” Thorin guffed off, shaking Balin's hand off him.

“Really?” Balin replied skeptically.

“Just a daydream, that's all. Got caught up in it. If that's all you wanted to know, then I've got other things I need to do today.” He shot Balin a glare before walking forward.

“Oh come on. Why are you acting like such a child?” Balin shot back at him, but let him walk away. He put his hands on his hips and scoffed at him.

Thorin ignored him as he walked down the sidewalk, disappearing into the growing crowds. He didn't need Balin's disapproval on his behavior; he was already embarrassed enough about it. After all, how do you explain seeing things that aren't really there, but feel so real. They started as simple daydreams, something to take his mind away from the torment of the mundane. They were harmless really. It wasn't until recently that they started to feel so real. Why were they happening to him? These daydreams were clearly not normal or else everyone would be having these awkward moments. The more Thorin thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He let out a sigh before looking up. His thoughts had brought him in front of the Ri's bakery and coffee shop.

'I really shouldn't go in. I can't even afford it,' Thorin thought to himself. 'But you have been stuck at home for a while. It might be nice to go someplace quiet.' He shrugged and walked in. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and tea with the wonderful hint of bread hit him in the face like a train. He exhaled with a content breath, “Mm...” His moment of bliss was broken by a loud shout.

“NORI! YOU GET BACK HERE, YOU SON OF A SNAKE!” Dori's loud shrill voice broke the trance of all the patrons in the cafe as well as Thorin.

The only response that Dori got was the laughter of Nori. The scene was classic. Dori was covered head to toe in flour and what looked like some bright blue icing. Nori was on the other side of the counter, laughing. He had his hand resting on the counter to keep himself up as he hit the ground with his foot. Ori stood behind the counter, stuck between fear of Dori's wrath and laughter of what he looked like.

Dori's face grew redder and redder with each passing second of Nori's laughter. “WHO'S GOING TO PAY FOR THIS?!”

Thorin winced at the lack of volume control from Dori.

Ori slid slowly behind the counter to avoid being between them. Nori only laughed harder. “If you keep turning red, you'll bake yourself!” This only made Thorin roll his eyes. 'You had to come in. You just had to, didn't you?' he replied in his own mind with a scoff as he moved closer to the counter. Frightened Ori had moved to sit near the wall in order to keep himself out of the line of fire. His face was half buried underneath his scarf and his fingerless gloves. Every so often he would peek from between his fingers to watch the chaos. Thorin looked from Ori just in time to see a large splatter of flour with icing hit Nori in the face. The collective audience let out a gasp and a few of them started chattering between each other. Nori stood there for a moment, his laughter stopping as he ran his hand over the mixture. It was now Dori's turn to laugh. “Ha! Shows you how much fun it really is!”

Nori shot Dori a glare before laughing, “Oh, we'll see who gets the last laugh here! Now if you'll excuse me.” He started to dust off his suit, leaving the flour and icing where it hit him. He walked over to the door,.“Mr. Oakenshield.” He nodded his head and left.

Ori slowly appeared from his hiding spot and looked over at Thorin. He offered a shy smile, “H-hello.”  
Thorin offered a smile, but from Ori's reaction, he was pretty sure it failed.

“Mr. Oakenshield! I had thought you’d disappeared on us.” Dori's voice returned to his gentler tone. “Good to see you! What will you be having today?”

 

~*~

 

“I am not so sure your faith is in the right place, Mithrandir. Do you truly believe that they will remember?”

“Don't question an old wizard, Legolas Greenleaf. You above all should know not to do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait guys. I wanted to work on getting a bunch of chapters done before I started posting it again. I have succeeded. I'm hoping to post two chapters a month, possibly more if I keep getting them done.
> 
> I am unbeta'd so if you catch any errors or anything, please let me know.


	5. Battle of Wits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try to help Thorin, even when he's not willing to accept it.

“Fee! That's not fair! Oh come on, just for a weekend!”  
  
“No. And I can't believe you're even asking me that! You know Uncle would kill us, namely me, for letting you go.”  
  
"But it would be fun! You have to admit to that.”  
  
“Well duh! Of course it would be fun. But I'm not taking you.”  
  
"Then I'll tell Uncle.”  
  
“You wouldn't dare.”  
  
“Try me.”  
  
There was a prolonged silence as the two boys stood on the stoop to their Uncle's house. It didn't take long before Kili began to fidget, swaying back and forth. “Are we going to go in or just stand out here?” He fought a losing battle with staying in one spot.  
  
Fili looked over at him and couldn't help but let out a laugh. “You have the attention span of a gnat. No, even that is an insult to the gnat. Come on, Kili, you go in first. I'm sure Uncle would love to hear about your adventure today.”  
  
“Please don't tell him.” Kili froze and looked over at Fili with fear. “Oh please Fee, don't do that to me!”  
  
“Only if you don't tell him where I'm going this weekend.”  
  
"That's not fair though!”  
  
"It's perfectly fair. You don't tell him about this weekend and I won't tell him that you got yourself suspended. Again.”  
  
“It was hardly my fault!”  
  
“Right, how was it explained to me again?” Fili ran his hand over the stubble that he had been growing since he had started college. Even during the break from classes, he couldn't bring himself to shave it off. “Oh, now I remember! You were caught trying to sneak in contraband items, wasn't it? You know, you never told me what it was you were caught with.”  
  
“That's not important! What is important is that you're doing something fun and life changing without me!”  
  
“I wouldn't call a trip to the shore life changing, Kee.”  
  
“A college trip to the shore. Key word is college!”  
  
“Why are you so worked up about this?” Fili looked over at him oddly.  
  
“Because.”  
  
“Nope. Not an answer.”  
  
Kili's response was to remain silent, until Fili lost interest. This backfired when they remained on the stoop and Fili crossed his arms over his chest. Kili could feel Fili's eyes boring into the side of his face. Just as Kili opened his mouth to say something, they hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Both of the boys turned to see Thorin, with food in hand and some flour on his hoodie. Kili closed his mouth and Fili looked at him, biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing. “So uh... Have a good day today, Uncle?”  
  
Thorin only grunted as he pushed past them. He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and left the boys on the stoop.  
  
“Real talkative today, isn't he?” Kili remarked.  
  
Fili watched the door, confused. He shook his head and put his hand on Kili's shoulder. “Come on Kee, let's go in.” Fili gave him a push to get inside before following after him. Once they were inside, Kili made a beeline to the kitchen to grab something to eat. While Fili wandered towards the study where Thorin had most likely retreated. Fili knocked on the door, waiting for a response.  
  
“Uncle?”  
  
Nothing replied to him.  
  
“Uncle, I know something is going on.” He looked away from the door and listened to Kili rustle around the house.  
  
“Just wanted to let you know that I want to help...” he trailed off. “Even if you won't tell me.” Fili moved away from the door and walked into the living room. Kili had caused a disaster in the living room. Laying on the floor was his backpack open with books, papers, and pencils trying to desperately get away. Kili lounged in Thorin's armchair, one leg lays on one arm, the other leg sprawled onto the back of the chair. Kili's torso was half in the chair and half almost touching the floor. On his stomach was a plate of chips with a bowl of salsa next to it. He had a chip hanging out of his mouth when he noticed Fili looking at him.  
  
“Wha?” Kili looked at him.  
  
“Nothing, you planning on sharing?” Fili flopped onto the ground, digging into the chips and salsa without getting an answer. Kili whined a little before returning to the tv.  
  
After making sure the food was in the kitchen, Thorin retreated to his office. He sat at his desk chair and ignored his nephew. He couldn't bring himself to drag Fili down with him. He was an adult; he needed to handle this situation on his own. He ran the soles of his palms over his forehead, massaging away a headache. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out as his hands ran over his eyes and down his face.  
  
'What am I going to do?' he thought to himself mournfully. He glanced at the bills that laid on his desk and his checkbook that was bookmarked by his pen. 'Sure I can pay for the new few months of bills if I budget right, but that will cut back on everything.'  
  
Thorin looked at his hands that laid empty in his lap. “I'm sorry, Dis...” he mumbled to no one in-particular. He watched his fingers clench and unclench before he laid them down with the palms facing his knees. “I can't seem to take care of your boys the way you wanted.” His mind was flooded with thoughts of what could be cut out of their lives and how worthless he felt. As the thoughts raced around in his mind, his fingers gripped at his ratty jeans. He closed his eyes and bent his head forward. 'You have no need to panic,' he tried to tell himself. 'You still have funds. You will be fine. You'll find a job.' He began to repeat those words over and over until he had a firmer grip on his thoughts. After a while, he opened his eyes and looked over at his checkbook. A sigh left his lips before he hunched over and started to fill out each check for his bills. Time passed as he filled out each check and stuffed it into the appropriate envelope. He set all the envelopes on the corner of his desk so that way he could grab them on the way out. The rest of the bills were shoved into his filing drawer. He opened his laptop and checked the time. He let out a groan when he saw that it was well past dinner time. He took a moment to check his email, even though he knew what would be awaiting him. Spam was his only constant companion these past few days. He closed his laptop without bothering to delete any of them and walked over to the door. He hesitated for only a moment before opening the door. The TV was on and all the lights were off. Thorin walked down the hallway and turned into the opening to the living room. He stood there and watched the boys. Fili laid on the floor, watching the TV, and Kili had fallen asleep in the chair.  
  
Fili glanced over at Thorin before getting up. He grabbed Kili's salsa and chips and walked into the kitchen. Thorin didn't have the heart to go and wake up Kili. Instead, he put a blanket over him and followed Fili into the kitchen.  
  
Fili was rinsing off the dishes. “How was your day, Uncle?”  
  
“More eventful than the past few days.”  
  
“How long was your vacation for?”  
  
“Oh, a while. I have the date in my study. Why? Are you already getting sick of me being around?” Thorin made an attempt to laugh.  
  
Fili looked back at him with an odd expression. “Well, kind of. You were always busy. I guess it's an odd thing to have you around so often.”  
  
"Mm.” He nodded as he walked over to the fridge. “What would you like for dinner?”  
  
“I'm actually not hungry. I'm sure you could ask Kili; he's a black hole after all.”  
  
“No, you can let him sleep.”  
  
There was a pause as Thorin opened the fridge to look around inside. The silence continued as he looked through the fridge. He stopped and glanced back to see Fili looking at him with his arms crossed. “What is going on, Fili?”  
  
“Uncle. I don't think you're telling the truth.”  
  
“What about?” He raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Everything.”  
  
“Well that's quite a range; could you perhaps narrow it down?”  
  
“Well for starters, I think you're not being completely honest about this vacation of yours. Like I said, you've always been busy working at Erebor.”  
  
“That's exactly it. I was busy putting together vacation days so during this summer we could spend time together like we always did.”  
  
“That was years ago.”  
  
“What? I can't just decide to want to spend time with my nephews?”  
  
“I'm not saying that. I'm just saying it's suspicious.”  
  
“I suppose everything I've been doing lately has been suspicious then?”  
  
“Well, you have been hiding in your study a lot, probably brooding.”  
  
“I don't brood.”  
  
“Uncle, you're brooding right now.”  
  
Thorin looked at Fili surprised, which caused Fili to laugh, “Uncle, whatever it is that you are really doing, you can tell us. _We're fighters, all of us_.”  
  
Thorin's eyes went wide as he watched the world rush past him. His kitchen raced away from him. The colder lit room dissolved into warmth. The room around him evaporated away into a wooden enclosure where warm candle light filled the room to the top. A small round window showed the darkness of the night, but even through that he could see smoke coming out of what he could only describe as homes. Except those homes looked like mounds of grass with lit windows. He tilted his head in confusion before a voice broke him from his observations. He turned to see Fili, or what he thought was Fili. The man in front of him had his nephew's golden hair, but it could only be described as a mane. In his mane were very intricate braids that were held together with beads. He wore cream furs that laid upon thick layers of leather and cloth. Instead of the stubble that Thorin had come to know on Fili's face was a short beard similar to what he wore now. His mustache had similar braids as his hair and wore similar beads.  
  
Thorin tried to open his mouth to ask Fili if that was truly him, but he found that he was unable to open his mouth or move anything but his head. Instead he found himself looking out on a scene of blurry figures sitting and standing alike around a wooden table. The table had been cleaned recently and very little laid in front of him except what he could only assume to be his meal. He glanced around as he tried to make out each blurry figure from the other, but to no avail. He sighed to himself as he looked over at Fili who was now standing proud. He tried to make sense of this, when another familiar voice broke him out of his thoughts.  
  
_“And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.”_  
  
Thorin looked at a figure that stood up next to Fili. He could tell that voice anywhere. 'Kili?' The figure remained partially blurry, but he could make out Kili's rich brown hair and his hopeful brown eyes that he got from his father. He could barely tell the amount of leather and clothes that he wore due to the blurriness, but he knew his young nephew anywhere. He stared at his two nephews as they stood side by side proudly. He couldn't register all the other conversations that flew at this Gandalf person; so many voices were flying around him that he barely heard a voice he had heard before. He froze and turned to look behind him. There was a blurry figure that seemed smaller than all the others, but the eyes were very clear. They were the same eyes that he had seen when he was in the office of his old bosses. The warm brown eyes looked into the chaos of the other figures. Even though the eyes were not looking at him, he could still feel a shiver crawl down his spine. Before he knew what he was doing, his body pushed himself out of his seat and shouted, “ _Enough_!”  
  
All the figures looked over at Thorin and fell silent. He looked out at the gathering of the figures and his two nephews. When he looked at Fili, he noticed that he was giving him an odd expression.  
  
“Uncle? Hello? Is anyone in there?”  
  
Thorin closed his eyes, shaking his head. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own kitchen with Fili standing right in front of him.  
  
Fili looked at him, concerned. “Uncle? Are you okay?”  
  
“Fili?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Is it really you?” Thorin looked a little wide eyed at him as he put his hands on his shoulders.  
  
Fili looked up at Thorin with more concern and worry on his face. “Uncle? What's going on? Are you feeling okay?” Fili returned Thorin's grasp by putting his own hands on his arms.  
  
“I'm not sure.” Thorin let out a sigh.  
  
“Won't lie, I'm kinda freaked out, Uncle. You just went silent and started looking at me odd. I almost called for an ambulance. Maybe you should sit down?”  
  
“Yeah... Yeah, that sounds good.” Thorin allowed himself to be led to a chair.  
  
“So what happened?” Fili asked as he returned to get him a glass of water.  
  
“I don't even know if I can explain it.”  
  
Fili filled up the glass and walked back over to his Uncle, handing him the glass. “Well, you could always try?”  
  
Thorin nodded his thanks as he took the glass. “I'm not sure where to start.”  
  
“Well the beginning is always a smart start.” Fili sat down in the chair next to him.  
  
Thorin took a moment to look over at Fili. His daydream had shown him so clearly, but now here he is sitting in front of him. The daydream looked so similar it was terrifying. Though his nephew didn't have a long mane of hair or braids in his hair or his mustache; it was like he had looked into an alternate dimension. He was glad that he couldn't see himself. His hand gripped tighter around the glass as the thought of this other self filled his head. Fili must have taken notice because he eased the glass out of his hand and set it on the table.  
  
“I think it's just my old age.”  
  
“You're not that old.”  
  
“How would you know?”  
  
“Like Kili says, 'Your hair isn't completely gray.'”  
  
“Well I'll take that as a compliment.”  
  
“Stop stalling.”  
  
“You're just like your mother. But really Fili, it's nothing to worry about. I'm fine.”  
  
Fili just stared at him, slowly crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair. “Not buying it.”  
  
“Really, Fili. I'm fine.”  
  
“I wouldn't call what I just sa--”  
  
“I'm fine, Fili!” Thorin slammed his hand on the table, causing the glass to tip over and spill all over the table and floor. He pushed himself up. “Get to bed,” he said shortly before storming off.  
  
Fili was left sitting at the table with a mess of water to clean up. He let out an agitated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“What’d I miss?” Kili yawned from the opening of the kitchen to the living room. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.  
  
“Nothing, Kee. Get me a towel, will you?”  
  
Kili mumbled as he tried to wake himself up. He walked over to the stove and grabbed the hand towel that sat there. He threw it over to Fili. “If that's all, I'm going to bed.”  
  
“Yeah, okay.” He caught the towel and used it to sop up what he could. He walked over to the sink to wring it out before repeating the process until the floor was fairly dry. He threw the wet towel in the sink before going upstairs. He closed Kili's door after he checked on him and collapsed onto his own bed. He buried his face into his pillow and wrapped his arms underneath it.  
  
“Tomorrow will be better, just like you say, mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! We're starting a hopeful pattern. I've decided on two chapters a month and I'm currently ahead of schedule. Hopefully I can keep this pace up! Remember, this is un-beta'd, so please tell me if you see any errors or spelling problems!


	6. An Unwanted Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a trip into town.

It was well past Bilbo's bedtime when he wandered back into his home. He propped himself against his brilliant green door as the door swung open. Never had Bilbo had so much bad luck in one day. He staggered into his home, grabbed his door, and slammed it shut. He didn't bother turning on any lights; he really didn't want to see what he looked like after the nightmare that happened. He made his way slowly up to the second floor and into his bathroom. He closed the door and braced himself to turn on the light.

“Come on, Bilbo. You can do it.” He winced as he flipped the switch. The lights blinded him momentarily. He looked at himself in the mirror and couldn't help but jump. The creature -- for a lack of a better word -- that stared Bilbo back in the mirror was freakish. Dirty leaves, twigs, and even a small branch had made their home in his hair. His face was a whole other story. He couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh as he attempted to rub the dirt and muck from his face.

“This is why you don't go outdoors anymore, Bilbo,” he mumbled to himself. He turned on the faucet and let the cool water run over his beaten up palms.

“What was that old tale, Bilbo? Little Red Riding Hood. See what happens when you go off the beaten path. You end up with ruined clothes and nature in your hair.” After a few moments of letting the water run over his hands, he cupped them together to splash his face. He shook his face close to the sink. He stood up right as he rubbed at the dirty spots on his face. He cupped more water and splashed his face once more. Some of the dirt and muck had disappeared for the most part, but most of it remained. He grumbled and moved to deal with his hair. He gently coaxed the smaller twigs out of his curls. When it came to the larger branch, he winced as it kept catching on some of the smallest hairs. After a few moments and many winces later, the branch was able to be free. He threw it into the trash without a second thought. He walked over to his tub and turned it on. He wiggled out of his ripped clothes and let them fall to the ground. He stood in his bathroom naked, waiting for the tub to fill out. He glanced down at his clothes, letting out a sigh as he picked them up.

“I could patch them up,” he told the clothes. “Could end up using them as work clothes around the house.” He ran his thumbs over the fabric.

“Or I could just trash them...” He grumbled a little as he threw the clothes into the dirty clothes hamper.

“I'll just clean them and figure it out later.”

Just as he was about to dip his foot into the warm water, he remembered that his phone was still in his pants pocket. He grabbed his pants from the hamper and pulled out his phone. He double checked it for any messages, but there were none. He shrugged to himself and walked back to the tub. As he got in, he put his phone on the floor to make sure it didn't get wet. He slunk down into the tub and let out a sigh of relief as the warm water enveloped him. He slid down far enough for the tips of his toes to poke out as well as his head. He closed his eyes and let the water work its magic on his achy skin. As the moments passed, he felt his mind drift further and further into the fogginess of his mind.

“ _Do not speak to me of loyalty. Throw him from the ramparts. Did you not hear me!? I’ll do it myself! CURSE YOU! CURSE THE WIZARD WHO PUT YOU ON THIS COMPANY!_ ” A large, shadowy figure loomed over Bilbo, completely blocking him from the world. The figure stood away from him for just a moment before swooping in and wrapping itself around him. The shadowy figure blocked the light and enclosed him as it grew closer and closer to him. What would be considered arms wrapped themselves around Bilbo’s neck.

'That voice,' Bilbo thought to himself. 'I can't breathe!'

As the voice came closer to his head, he felt a pressure build around his neck, making it difficult to breathe. He tried opening his mouth, but nothing came out except for a gurgling noise. He tried desperately to inhale, but he only received a mouthful of water. Bilbo's eyes bolted open as he pushed himself up out of the tub. He coughed heavily, trying to get air into his lungs. He sat on the edge of the tub with his arms wrapped firmly around his body. He hunched his body over as he ran his hands over his arms. “What was that about?”

He glanced back at the tub with the now chilling water. He shivered as he got up and unplugged the tub to drain. He shook his head as he reached for a towel, wrapping himself up snugly. He scrubbed away all the moisture on his body and finally ended on his hair. He threw his towel into the hamper and grabbed his bathrobe. He bent over and grabbed his phone, checking the time. A bright 4:30 AM flashed in his face as he felt his heart drop. “Are you serious?!”

He let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his fingers through his tangled mess of curls. “Well I'm not getting any sleep tonight.” He grumbled as he shuffled off to his bedroom. He threw on some comfortable clothes and walked back downstairs to his office. He left his office door open as he begrudgingly made his way to his desk. He slouched into his desk as he mentally prepared himself for some long hours of typing ahead of him. He let out a groan as he started up his laptop. He took a moment to lean back in his chair and relax. He took those moments to continue mentally preparing before he heard the telltale 'Ping!' from his laptop.

He pushed himself forward as he opened up his previously saved document that sat in the middle of his screen. He gave it a few seconds to open up before he slid the scroll bar all the way to the bottom. He read his last line a few times before starting up again. Throughout the rest of the night and much of the next few days were spent like this. He was hunched over his laptop, typing away like a fiend. He took quick breaks every now and again to stretch or grab something to munch on. As he neared the end of his story, he started to slow down and take his time. As he finished typing in the last few sentences, his phone rang. He jumped from the loud noise after all the hours of quiet. He answered it in a hurry. “Hello!”

“Ah! Bilbo! I thought you had died on us!”

“Uh... Excuse me?”

“It's Gandalf, my boy!”

“Oh yes, hello Gandalf. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, I'm just checking in. How are you?”

“Better than I have been.”

“Really?”

“Uh-hm.”

“Busy then?”

“Oh no! I just finished up with my draft that I have to get to Balin on the 25th, so now I have some time to relax.”

“Bilbo. It is the 25th.”

“What?!” Bilbo, who had just started to relax, sat straight up and looked at the time and date displaced on his laptop. Sure enough, there it showed the 25th of June. “I'm sorry, Gandalf, I have to go!”

“No worries, my dear bo--”

Bilbo hung up abruptly and raced to transfer the story onto his flash drive. “Alright, it's only noon now. It'll take me a few hours to get into town. I can stop at the print shop on the way. I'll be late but he'll get it today,” he told himself as he ejected the flash drive. He shoved it into his pocket and raced out the door. He barely remembered to put on his shoes and lock the door. He didn't waste time running down the dirt road heading into town. After the adrenaline wore off, he came to a halt. He wheezed as he propped himself up on his neighbor's fence. He took in wheezed breaths as he tried to calm down his heart. He stood there for a little bit before starting back towards town at a slower pace. The warm sun provided him with little comfort as he raced quicker to shadier spots. He took a pause at one spot. He looked forward and saw town in the far distance. He heaved a sigh when he heard a peculiar noise speeding towards him from the behind. He looked behind him just in time to see a car come racing towards him. He jumped out of the way and watched the car come to a screeching halt.

“Bilbo Baggins! Is that you?” A woman's voice called him from a window. A joyful face popped out of the window.

“Primula Brandybuck! You nearly hit me with that deathtrap!” Bilbo yelled at her. Her response was to giggle.

“Where are you going, Cousin Bilbo?” A male's voice called out from the opposite window.

“Drogo? Are you really in that thing?” Bilbo called out to him as he slowly made his way towards it. He was very hesitant as he neared Primula's window. She just smiled at him.

“Of course it is, Bilbo! Who do you think would be driving?” Drogo laughed over at Bilbo. He moved from his window to look out Primula's.

“Oh please tell me you don't have little Frodo in there!”

As if on cue, a small, black haired boy popped his head up in the rear window. He waved frantically at Bilbo as he smiled. “HI, UNCLE BILBO!” Bilbo winced a little at how loud he was before looking at Primula and Drogo. “What are you even doing with that thing? What use do you have for a car?”

“Everyone needs a car, Bilbo!” Primula laughed as she adjusted her auburn curls.

“Not everyone! Just crazy people.” Bilbo shook his head.

“I got it for work. It helps cut down the walking distance.” Drogo shrugged. “Plus Primula raised a lot of good points about it. I couldn't be happier with it! Plus, look at Frodo! He's having a blast!” Drogo laughed as he looked back at Frodo who was now bouncing up and down in the seat.

“Hmm... So you say.” He shook his head.

“Where are you off to?” Primula looked at him.

“I'm off to meet with my agent. He needs the draft today and I've been so busy that I've lost track of time.”

“Oh, what a shame! Actually! We're going into town as well. Little Frodo's been so good lately that we're going to spoil him with a trip. Why don't we drive you? It'll take a lot less time than walking all the way there.”

Bilbo looked at them and then back at their car. He looked skeptically at it. “It's not going to crash, is it?”

Drogo laughed, “Of course not! I'm the safest driver I know!”

“Drogo dear, you're the only driver you know.”

“See! I'm good at what I do.”

Primula rolled her eyes and looked back at Bilbo. “What do you say, Bilbo? We have plenty of room! I know how you get when you're in a hurry. Think of it this way. It'll be more time you can spend in your garden!”

Bilbo thought about it for a second, running his hand over his chin. “That's true. I haven't been able to pay it any attention. Alright. I guess. But you have to swear that it's safe!” He pointed at them.

“We swear, Bilbo! Now come on! We're wasting gas!”

Bilbo continued looking at the car skeptically as he reached for the back door handle, opening it up and getting him. He quickly put on the seat belt and gripped the seat. “Okay. I'm good. Are you sure there's only this seat belt back here?”

“Oh Bilbo, calm down.” Primula adjusted herself in the seat and looked back at him. “Why don't you spend some time with Frodo? It's been a while since you both saw each other.”

He glanced over at Frodo, who was beaming up at him bright eyes. “Hello?”

“Hi!” Frodo waved enthusiastically at him.

Bilbo gave him a small wave. “Hello Frodo. Uh... How are you?”

“I'm good! I'm going to get a new toy today!”

“I never said a toy, Frodo.” Drogo called back to him.

“Uh-huh! Mama said!” Frodo told his parents matter-of-factly.

The only response was a chuckle and a small giggle.

“ANYWAY! Uncle Bilbo, why don't we see you anymore? I miss storytime!”

“Well, I've been busy. I actually just finished a story today.”

“Oooooh! Tell me it! I want to hear about it!”

“Well, I don't know if you really should hear it right now. It's still not completely done.”

“But you just said it was done!”

“Well it kind of is, but it's not at the same time.”

“That doesn't make sense.” Frodo scratched his head.

“Well, it's just a draft. Err... A practice copy.”

“Ooooh... Can I hear it when it's all done?”

“Well I don't see why not. You'll have to ask your parents first though.”

“Mama! Daddy! Can I hear Uncle Bilbo's story when it's all done?” Frodo called out to his parents.

Primula tapped her lower lip. “Hmm... I dunno about that. What do you think, Drogo?”

“I'm not sure. He has been extra mischievous recently.”

“Nuh-uh! I've never been mischewus!” Frodo pouted.

Bilbo couldn't help but laugh, which he quickly covered up with his hand when Frodo shot him a look of betrayal.

“THAT'S NOT FAIR!” Frodo screeched.

Bilbo winced at the noise before he heard Drogo and Primula burst into laughter.

“Of course you can go visit Bilbo when he's done with his book.”

“Yay!” Frodo clapped and jumped as much as he could.

“Well, you're always welcome at my home, Frodo, and that invite goes to both of your parents, too. It really has been too long since I've seen you all. I hope Lobelia hasn't been keeping you all away.”

Primula snorted, “She wishes! I think she's jealous that Drogo is the next in line to get that house after you Bilbo.”

“Well I doubt I'll be having any kids at my age anyway. So of course I'd give my place to you two.” Bilbo shrugged.

“For me, too, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo looked at him hopefully.

“Of course, my boy!” Bilbo gave him a smile. Frodo clapped his hands and let out a happy squeal. Bilbo listened to Frodo tell his parents all about his plans to put in a treehouse in the garden. He also continued on about how every room would be filled with drawings, especially his parents’ room. Bilbo tuned him out as he watched the countryside disappear and give way to the homes of the town. Ered Luin wasn't as big as it could have been, but when Thror had brought his mining headquarters, Erebor, into town, it had caused a large influx of population. It became the heart of the town and turned the sleepy, little town into a tiny city. He couldn't really complain though; if it wasn't for this town, he wouldn't be able to live in his parents' home. He rested his head on his palm as the dirt road gave way to paved roads. Before he knew it, they had pulled off into a parking spot on the street.

Drogo turned around. “And this is where we stop! If you want a ride back, Cousin Bilbo, we're going to be heading back by the end of the day. Hey! Why don't we get some dinner in town tonight?”

“That's a lovely idea!” Primula smiled. “We could catch up some more! Maybe you can even tell us a bit about this new book of yours.”

“I'd like that.” Bilbo smiled and nodded, “Sure, just give me a call when you find someplace to eat.” He opened the car door and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I'll see you later.” He hopped out and walked down the sidewalk towards a nearby print shop. He found one nearby and quickly went him. He popped his flash drive into the port and hit print. He sat at the computer for a moment, taking in the fact that he actually finished his draft in time. Before he started to relax in the chair, he ejected his flash drive and shoved it into his pocket with a sigh of relief.

“Uhm... E-excuse me?” A timid voice called out to him. “Are you Bilbo Baggins?”

Bilbo turned around to see a teen with reddish brown hair and a mustache trying to poke its way through. He wore hand knitted gloves, a multicolored scarf, and a few layers of browns and reds. “Last time I checked.”

“Oh my-my goodness,” the teen squeaked. “I'm a huge f-fan!” He gave Bilbo a huge smile as he put his hands to his chest.

“Always nice to meet a fan.” He offered the teen a smile. “Seems rude that I don't know your name.”

“Oh yes! S-sorry. I'm Ori.” He held out his hand and Bilbo took it and gave it a gentle shake.

“Nice to meet you, Ori. Do you work here?”

“Y-yeah. It's a part time job away from-m my brothers.”

“Ah, getting into your business then?”

“A-all the time...” Ori laughed as he let go of Bilbo's hand. “What b-brings you here today?”

“I'm actually printing out the draft for my new book.”

“Oh! Th-that's wonderful! When do you think it'll be published?”

“Not for some time, I'm sure. It still has to go through all the editors and then back to me to revamp. Has to go through that whole process before it can even dream of being published,” he laughed.

“Of course,” Ori laughed. “I can't wait to rea-read it. Is it a sequel or a new idea?”

“Not a new idea, sadly. A sequel, but hopefully it'll be just as good as the previous one.”

“Oh good. I'm just glad the story's getting continued!” There was a loud beep that caused both Ori and Bilbo to jump. “O-Oh! Your draft is all done. Let me get that for you, Mr. Baggins.” He raced to get behind the counter and grabbed the draft from the printer. “Still ni-nice and warm.”

Bilbo walked to the counter and took the papers. “Wonderful! Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh n-no! I couldn't p-possibly charge you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

“Well, alright. Thank you! I really appreciate it. I wish there was a way I could thank you. Hm... Oh, I know.” He smiled and reached into his back pocket. He took out one of his business cards and wrote down something on the back. “Here. Take this.”

Ori took the card and flipped it over. “W-what's this?”

“When the book comes out, make sure you have that. It'll get you a free copy of the book when it comes out. I'll even sign it for you before you get it.”

“W-wow! Th-thanks, Mr. Baggins!”

“Please, call me Bilbo.” He waved his hand. “I hope I see you around town, Ori. It was lovely to meet you.”

“You too... Bilbo.” Ori couldn't help but hide his mouth behind his glove as he let out a small laugh.

“Have a good day.” Bilbo smiled, holding onto his papers as he walked out the door. He pulled out his phone to check the time. “Okay, I still have an hour before I have to meet Balin at the cafe,” he mumbled to himself. “Might as well get there before him.” He shrugged as he walked down the sidewalk. As he walked down the sidewalk, he started to doze off again. His mind brought him back to the voice that sounded so angry and hateful towards him. His body involuntarily shivered as he felt the hands push on his throat. He felt his throat tighten as he let out a cough to see if that would help clear it up. He shook his head and that cleared his mind.

'Hm... That's pretty good fuel for a story,' he thought to himself. He let his free hand rub his chin. As he let his mind wander into potential story ideas, he wasn't paying attention to Gandalf waving at him.

“Bilbo Baggins!”

Bilbo stopped and looked over at Gandalf, all his ideas dissolving in an instant.“Gandalf?”

“Hello, my dear boy! Come on over. You had me worried, hanging up on me like that,” he chuckled.

“Oh right... Sorry about that, Gandalf. I had to get going. You understand.”

“Oh, of course!”

Bilbo walked over to Gandalf. He sat on the patio of a small bistro with a younger looking gentleman sitting across the way. Gandalf wore his typical grey suit but his tie was bright red with pink polka dots across it. The gentleman across the way wore an elegant greenish-grey suit jacket with a dull brown shirt. He had long platinum blonde hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail. The oddest part of this man was his ears: They came to a point. The man must have seen Bilbo staring at them because he broke the stare by chuckling.

“I do believe I have caused your little friend to become speechless, my friend.”

“That you have.”

Bilbo gawked a little before trying to make up for his awkwardness. His face flushed a deep red as he looked away quickly. “I'm so sorry!”

“No need. I get it quite frequently. A genetic disorder. Everyone in my family had these lovely pointed ears. You should hear how often I've been asked if I was an elf,” the man laughed.

Bilbo couldn't help but look at this man again. He appeared flawless. “I could imagine.”

“Bilbo, this is my friend Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf.”

Legolas bowed his head. “Hello, Bilbo Baggins. I have heard a great deal about you.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Greenleaf.”

“Please. Legolas is just fine.”

“Now Bilbo, you said that you had just finished your book?”

“Well, kind of. I just finished the draft. It has to go through the shredder first.”

“Ah. Well, why not join us for a celebratory drink?” Gandalf said as he waved over a waiter.

“Oh no, I can't. Sorry. I have to get this to Balin and then I'm having dinner with some of my cousins.”

“Really? Who might that be?” Gandalf turned to Bilbo with a smile.

“Primula and Drogo with their little boy Frodo. I would think you’d remember them. You gave Frodo that lovely fireworks display last year.”

“Did I?” Gandalf thought about it for a moment. “Oh yes. Now I remember, a brilliant display if I do say so.” He finished up with a bout of laughter.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, but caught Legolas staring at him with a completely blank face. “D-do I have something on my face?”

Legolas looked at him, not even phased by being caught. “Oh no, sorry. You look like someone I once knew. He became a dear friend of mine.”

“Oh, are they still around?”

“That's yet to be seen.”

“Uh... What do you me--”

“Legolas.” Gandalf stopped the conversation with a deep voice. He turned to look at Bilbo. “I am sorry about that, my dear boy. Didn't you say that you had someplace to be?”

“Hm?” He looked over at Gandalf. “Oh! Right. Thank you, Gandalf. I should be going. It was nice to meet you, Legolas. And I'm sure I'll be hearing from you again, Gandalf.”

“Of course!”  
  
Bilbo waved to them as he continued down the street to get to the Ur Café, thinking only of the oddness of Legolas and his dinner plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so fail at keeping a schedule. I'm sorry guys ;3;


End file.
